Change and Chance
by SuzanOfSouthern
Summary: Poems and songs of a religious nature. Of change, chance, and a thousand things in between. Of life, love, and darkness, with hope shining through. I hope you enjoy. (I'm not sure what I will end up putting here, so I'm going with T to be safe.)
1. Torn Asunder

**AN: Poetry and songwriting are some of my favorite things to do, even more than story-writing. I hope you enjoy these!**

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TORN ASUNDER

The shadow over me it lumbers  
As I run, I'm torn asunder;  
Plundering so daringly,  
Help me, Lord, is my plea.

I'm falling farther, further down,  
Away from Your eternal crown;  
I realize now that I'm in need;  
Help me, Lord, is my plea.

I'm broken, shaken, battered, worn,  
Ravaged, pillaged, plundered, torn;  
I didn't mean for this to be;  
Help me, Lord, is my plea.

I'm sorry for the things I've done,  
Forgive me, Lord, O Holy One.

Sunlight burns into my eyes;  
I gaze in wonder at bright blue skies.  
I'm no longer chased, pursued;  
You have rescued, ravished, wooed—

Oh my God, now I see  
How You answered my pitiful plea.  
Marvel, humans, at His might;  
With Him, everything will be all right.


	2. He's the More

**He's the More**

A thousand different directions  
all calling out to me;  
I take a thousand directions  
thinking this is what I need.

A busy life, a better life,  
no thought to anything else.  
all to maintain  
the persona of self.

But I need more,  
so much more,  
than what these people are telling me,  
that life is supposed be  
some mad grab for more.  
There is no other place,  
no other grace,  
nothing in life more than God.

So keep on filling up  
every single cup,  
indulging in your every wish;  
Feed the need,  
feel the greed  
running from your fingertips.

Is this what we've turned to?  
Is this what we've become?  
A country full of fluffy stuff;  
at every turn, undone.

Nothing satisfies,  
nothing can rectify  
the missing part that's never filled.  
We try to fill it,  
try to be more,  
but it all falls short,  
and we're always at war with ourself.

So I'll keep running to his cross,  
keep proclaiming his name;  
I've found nothing else can fill me,  
nothing but him.

He's the more  
I've been looking for,  
the one who fills the gap.  
So I will cling to him alone,  
and never look back.


	3. Falling

**FALLING**

Plunging down into the depths,  
I

f a l l,

f a l l,

f  
a  
l  
l

into an abyss of emptiness.

I lay there, unmoving;  
every bone feels broken,  
every breath shaken and rattling.

Despair grips my body  
and doesn't let go,  
seizing my mind and heart.

Black greets my eyes,  
and I strain to find some sort of light.

Oh but wait -

I can see red.

Crimson. The color of blood.  
I squeeze my eyes shut;  
Who's blood?  
my mind wondered.

I still my beating heart,  
hoping to hear somebody-  
anybody.

Silence answers me,  
my heart and my head the only things I can hear.  
I open my mouth to speak,  
but no matter how much I try,  
words can't form on my tongue.

I scream with no voice,  
straining to be heard regardless;  
no one replies or hears.

I try to find something to pound on,  
any noise whatsoever,  
and there is nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Tears start to run down my face  
as I realize no one can hear me,  
no body will find me.

I'm stuck here like this  
with no way out.

I'm lost.


	4. All Caught Up

**AN: So I wanted to write something different; hope you all enjoy it! A story poem. Reviews and critiques welcome.**

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**All Caught Up**

I'm sinking deep beneath the waves,  
trying to hold on to a lifeline;  
I'm falling fast, no one can save  
me from getting sucked in.

I'm caught and tossed,  
flung and battered against the rocks;  
I lie there, weeping and  
dead to the world  
I thought I knew.

Demons came to see me suffer,  
their leathery wings marked with  
holes and in tatters from battle.  
Their wheezing laughter surrounded me,  
thundering in my ears.

It will be the last thing I hear.

I shut my eyes, the salt water stinging my wounds.  
Their eyes - their yellow, sullied eyes - gazed on my helpless state.  
"No help now" I hear them hiss.  
I tremble at the thought  
that no one  
would hear

me.

I stand, then fall, my strength almost gone;  
What am I supposed to do?  
My body doesn't want to stand anymore.

I lie there in sorrow, grief and despair overcoming.

"Is it too late?" I shout to the sky,  
hoping that He would hear me.  
I'd hated Him my entire life; no one was going to tell me  
what to do or how to live.

Life was supposed to be about me;  
my wants and desires,  
my things. Even if they were supposedly evil. He was  
too demanding, too strict.

All of His followers were hypocrites!  
Did He not know this?  
Did He not know how awful His people were?

I bow my head; He didn't want me.  
No one ever did.  
He wouldn't come for me;  
only the people who wanted something from me did.

I slam my fist on the ground.  
"You say You listen to those who call on You!  
Where are you now, Liar?"

The demons start hopping from foot to foot, as if uneasy.  
"Everything You stand for is a lie!  
Prove You aren't!" Thunder rumbles, the demons starting to quiet.

"Stop your cries! He can't hear you!" one of them gruffly says.  
The others simply become agitated.  
Whispers carry around me.  
I barely hear "That's a lie; that's a lie." One attacks another.

I blink. Rain starts to fall.  
The demons start to scatter.  
But why? Why are they running?

"Because they know."  
It was more of a vibration than a voice;  
deep and powerful, reaching into my soul.  
My heart constricts.

A blinding light hits me,  
doubles me over and fills me.  
I cry out, heat burning inside.

"Why?" I moan, clutching my stomach.

"There is still evil in you."

"Take it out!"

"What are you asking, child?"

I wince, unable to ignore the pain.  
"I'm asking for relief! I'm asking -  
I'm asking for You."

"I'm trying to fill you, but there's evil inside.  
I can't be inside if there's evil there as well."  
The pain was becoming unbearable.  
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears sliding out.

"I'm sorry; I'm so sorry for everything -" I sobbed,  
my arms holding my stomach. I cry out again,  
the burning intensifying until I think I can't be in any more agony.

Then it leaves. Gone. The light is there,  
inside me, and I look up.  
"What's happening?"

"Everything you did is gone.  
Only I now remain. Are you ready  
for what comes next?"

I stand, soaked in the rain,  
light pouring out from everywhere.  
I look at my arms, now armored.  
My clothes are white.  
I marvel at the transformation.  
I look up again.

"Am I going home?"

"Yes; come with Me, My son."


	5. Beware

**AN: So I decided to spend some time and write another poem. I really wanted to get something posted, so I did this in 15 minutes. I figured it would be something for you guys. Thanks for the views.**

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**Beware**

The wind whips my hair around;  
leaves crunch under my feet.  
I gaze around, my fear unfound,  
slowly walking down the street.

I continue on, my senses heightened,  
my ears pricked at every sound.  
Every noise makes me frightened,  
my hands seemed almost bound.

I keep walking, head turned down,  
attention riveted on getting back.  
Something hits me on my crown,  
my vision suddendly becoming black.

I wake up on the road, bloodied and beat,  
wondering what had happened to me.  
No money, no wallet, no ID  
makes me feel worthless, admitting defeat.

I recover, slowly, from the shock  
of being alone on that street.  
I'm always prepared now, always locked  
and loaded for next time we meet.

Beware.


	6. Flying

**AN: So, seeing as how I'm eagerly awaiting the midnight showing of "Man of Steel", I will probably be posting a few poems dedicated to Superman. Yes, I know this is supposed to be a Christ-centered poetry showcase; however, if anyone cares, Superman was based off of what Schuster and Seigel thought the Messiah would be like if he came. All-powerful and awe-inspiring. That is what I hope to capture in these next few poems. So deal with it.**

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**Flying**

This plunge, this fall,  
a drop most consider lethal-  
feels so good, the wind whipping around me.

I close my eyes, drink in the moment,  
that surreal, ethereal moment  
when nothing in the world can stop me.

Not even the ground.

My eyes snap open, the earth coming quickly to meet me.  
I put my arms out in front of me,  
hoping they will be crushed instead of my face.

The wind slows, the air caressing me gently.  
I snuck a look from my hiding place.  
I was still a few feet above the ground.

I blinked.  
How could this be?  
Humans fell, they hit the ground;  
gravity always prevailed.

Or so I thought.

My mind blooms at the possibilities  
of what just happened,  
what could happen.

I gaze for a long time at myself,  
still floating in the air.

What can I really do?

I grin. Well, no time like the present.


	7. The Reason

**AN: Yes, it's another inspired poem by the Man of Steel. Don't like, I don't care. I'm posting it anyways.**

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**The Reason**

Power courses through my body,  
the light renewing my strength.  
I ball my fist, feel the tightness;

The power seems overwhelming at times.

High above the clouds, I hear them;  
the people, the animals, the cars-

everything.

And I feel so alone,  
even with my powers.  
I stay there, basking in the sun,  
feeling the warm rays soak into my being.  
I sigh, unable to ignore the calls for help,  
the calls for someone to come and save them.

The humans are strange;  
I grew up as one,  
never really knowing who I was,  
or why I had my gifts,  
as my parents called them.

Now that I know,  
life has changed.

I have changed.

No longer a boy,  
but not a human man,  
I often wonder how life would be  
if my planet had never been destroyed,

if my parents would still be with me.

These thoughts and more  
zip through my head as the people who adopted me,  
who gave me another home,  
destroy each other with reckless abandon.

I mourn for those who are bent on warpaths  
they know leads to the decimation of others.  
I grieve when I can't make it to a scene on time,  
when there are people accusing me of selfishness,

of haughtiness.

No one understands how my heart aches  
at the people I can't save,  
the people that are lost forever.

To them, I appear like a god,  
some powerful being with an agenda.

There is no agenda, no selfish reason  
for doing what I do.  
I can help, and that's all that matters.

My parents, my earth parents-  
they taught me that everyone is worth saving,  
no matter what they've done.  
There is good in everyone,  
greatness even,  
if only someone can bring it out  
and give them hope.

This is what I strive for,  
what I aim for:

To bring hope to the world that needs me.


	8. The Battle for a Soul

**P/N: So, this started as a simple poem, and my fingers kinda just let all this out. It's rather descriptive (and somewhat violent), so if you do not have a strong stomach, don't read. Yes, it's an allegory. Yes, I think more things like this need to exist for us to see just how dark and troubled our world, and we, are. It makes the hope that much brighter, our faith that much clearer. I'm done. Read and review if you like what you see.**

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**The Battle for A Soul**

Some days I feel so

useless.

Nothing I do matters,  
nothing I will do is going to matter.

I feel worthless,  
lower than low,  
like I'm falling into a well  
that's so deep

for so long

that I don't know if there's a bottom.

I close my eyes,  
praying to stop,  
to feel something other than  
this nothingness that engulfs me.

I open my eyes to black;  
pure, solid black.  
I can't see my hand in front of my face.

Is this what my life is? Blackness?  
For the rest of my life?

I am angry;  
angry that I was in this predicament,  
angry that I couldn't get out,  
angry—

Angry at myself for allowing this to happen.

But what am I going to do?  
Fight? Fight what?  
There's nothing here.

Or so I think.

Something slimey touches me;  
scaley, like a snake.  
I reach my hand out,  
touching hard scales.

I draw my hand back.

What was happening?

A deep red light slowly rises,  
giving me just enough light to see  
what was going on. The scales

I felt

belonged to a something I'd only read about  
in fairy tales.

The dragon swings its giant head at me,  
its eyes glittering madly.  
I could hear a deep, scratchy chuckle  
coming from his mouth.

It's going to eat me.

I swallow, a lump in my throat;  
I had no way, no means to protect myself  
from this beast.

"You dare to think I'm separate from you?"  
the creature growls, his voice rushing  
like wind against my face.  
It was hot, like a furnace.

"I am you, pathetic boy,"  
he spits, small shots of fire  
littering the ground around me.

"All the evil,  
all the wretched things you've done,  
have made me who I am.  
Your ignorance and hate,  
your lies and betrayals—  
all of them gave me life,  
your life, a soul to rise and take hold of.

"And now, now dear boy,  
I've come to have you whole. It's time  
to become one, to embrace me fully,  
as you've done so well already."

The beast eyes me like candy,  
like he wants to tear into me as a meal.

How had I become this?

My fear takes hold;  
I am rooted to the ground,  
unmoving and unresponsive.  
I don't know what to do.

I squeeze my eyes shut,  
waiting for the beast to consume me, all of me.

Seconds pass.

My breathing slows.  
I am afraid to open my eyes,  
but I need to know why the dragon  
hasn't gulped me down yet.

A bright, hot white light pierced its way  
into the dark and gloom  
that surrounds me and the dragon.  
I can't see, it's so bright.

When it dims, I see a man on white horse.  
Who in the world was that?  
Why would someone dare to take on  
my dragon? It should be me.

The man wears white armor,  
with gold bracers and a gold helmet.  
His sword slides cleanly out of its scabbard,  
the sound a welcome one to my ears.

Then he looks at me.  
His face is a mixture of—  
I couldn't explain it.  
It was hope, goodness, faithfulness  
and love,  
but it also held sorrow and pain,  
like they were constant companions to him.

"I want to help, but I can't fight if you don't want me to.  
He will consume you, as you consumed him in your life.  
This battle is not mine to fight if you don't want to fight it yourself."

I blink. What was he saying?

"I cannot begin if you do not want me here.  
You can't beat him on your own."

My anger flares. Beat the dragon? This man was  
going to tell me I can't beat the dragon on my own?

"You're wrong!" I shout, rage rising up in me.  
"I can beat him, and there's nothing you can say!"  
I find myself armed with a sword and shield, another sword in a scabbard on my back.  
This is going to be fun.

I launch myself at the dragon, at my dark and morbid soul,  
in the battle of my life.  
I slash and parry,  
swipe and draw blood.

But no matter how many slashes I make,  
no matter how much blood I shed,  
the dragon doesn't tire.

His claws find their mark more often than not,  
my armor tearing and tattering til nearly gone.  
Not only did he use claws, but his breath  
scorches me more than once,  
burning fabric to my bones.

I have one eye that isn't swollen,  
but the burns, cuts and blood loss  
become too much for me.  
How is the dragon this strong?

I fall, my sword clattering to the ground.  
I am on all fours, trying to muster the strength

to stand.

I will myself to try, one hand on my knee.  
I push up and fall down just as quickly.  
My mind swirls in confusion,  
the room spinning madly.  
I reach a hand out,  
trying to find my sword,  
my arm twitching from the severed muscles  
the dragon gave me.

"Do you want me to help?"  
the man asks again,  
his eyes burning with rage at the dragon's treatment of me.

"If I've failed,  
what makes you think you'll do better?"

The man gives a roguish smile.  
"I'm not from around here,  
and I was born to fight."

"Hel—help me," I whisper, my head thunking lightly on the ground.

My eyes see everything.

The man is fighting the dragon with moves I never saw before,  
his blade going through the scales like butter.  
The dragon gets him too, but he is lasting much longer than me.

The last slash the dragon gives rips through his shirt,  
tearing it from his body and leaving a big gash on his chest.

The man snarls and leaps up,  
higher than any man I knew,  
and grabs hold of the dragon's shoulder spike.  
He slices it off, and leaps  
for the head.

"You cannot have him!  
He called for me!  
You heard it!"

The beast thrashes about,  
trying to buck the man off.  
The man jumps, bringing his sword down with  
a sickening crack through the dragon's skull.  
The beast roars, blood seeping through his nose and mouth,  
drenching the floor with his sickliness.  
It slumps down,  
coming to rest a few meters from my body.

I tremble;  
my body is still ravaged and bloodied.  
But the dragon is dead.  
Gone.  
The blackness that had consumed me,  
that had built up inside me  
is now lying in its own filth,

destroyed.

The man slides off the dragon's head,  
his feet slapping the floor as he runs towards me.  
He picks my head up gently, trying not to aggravate  
any more of my body.

He kisses my forehead.

"I told you that you needed me;  
why didn't you let me fight him first?"  
he says, his voice catching.  
I feel drops on my face  
and look up.

He is crying.

For me? He's crying for me?  
Hot tears burn my cheeks,  
gouging deeper than anything  
before.

Something behind him moves.  
I blink away the tears,  
seeing the dragon moving again.  
But it was dead! I saw it die!

The man sees my face,  
and turns his head, spotting the dragon move.  
"Stop! I order you to stop!"

With one last swipe,  
the dragon tries to take me out.  
The man jumps into it, his body sacrificed

for my own.

The man's blood  
splatters on me,  
dousing me fully.

The dragon's cries reach my ears.  
What was going on?  
I watch as the dragon's skin and bones  
melt from the man's blood,  
puddles forming of the decaying matter.

I could hardly believe it.  
I sit up slowly—  
wait? How is it that I—  
I'm whole? How?

My muddled mind  
is numb from the whole encounter.

The next thing I remember  
is the man who made the sacrifice,  
the man who gave himself,  
was standing next to me  
as if nothing had transpired.

There were no more cuts,  
no more bruises and grime;  
nothing to indicate he'd just waged a war against a dragon.

"Are you ready?"  
he asks me, extending a hand towards mine.

"Ready for what?"

He gives me that roguish grin again.  
"For true life."


	9. Hypocrite

**A/N: Inspired by my workplace. It could be a song-ish type thing. Hope you like it!**

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**Hypocrite**

You say to listen, to follow you,  
but everything ends up breaking.  
The lies, betrayal, covering you,  
is bringing me to waking…. Up.

The truth can be a hard pill to swallow,  
a dose of acid to the soul.  
We've swallowed your bile, the dirt, the mud,  
but that won't make us whole…. Anymore.

Hypocrite describes you,  
hypocrite defines you,  
Can't believe you wanna be,  
or have to be  
such a hypocrite.  
I don't want none of it.

All the justified regulations,  
all the media-centered hype;  
Has brought this country to its knees,  
and flushing it down the pipes... now.

This crowd I'm supposed to be in,  
These people you say are good—  
They've broken rules like everyone else,  
Don't get punished like they should…. Not accountable.

No one to look to,  
No one to inspire—  
Might have to look somewhere else,  
Maybe even higher.


End file.
